


Picasso's Last Words (Drink to Me)

by sunsetmog



Series: Married young [1]
Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: AU, M/M, Married young, Not!Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-14
Updated: 2011-07-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 15:11:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/345549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not!fic.  In which Spencer proposes on Brendon's eighteenth birthday. Angst and too much drinking ensues. Happy ending comes as standard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picasso's Last Words (Drink to Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://sunsetmog.livejournal.com/565434.html#cutid2) in July 2011.

SO. Brendon and Spencer fall in love when they're like, sixteen and they first meet when the band is starting up. They fall head over heels in love and when the band sort of breaks up because Ryan goes to college and Fall Out Boy doesn't exist, and Brent decides he doesn't really want to be in a band anymore, Spencer and Brendon stay together, mostly living in Brendon's scruffy apartment even though they're both still in high school and their parents disapprove of them being so intense, so young. 

And then, on Brendon's eighteenth birthday, Spencer proposes, and Brendon says yes. It's this thing that Spencer's been thinking about for a while now, and the two of them are totally in love and are clearly going to be together for ever because it is the two of them against the world, so it seems like the obvious thing to do to get married. Spencer plans the proposal out really carefully. He doesn't have that much money so the ring is really cheap, but he wraps it up in a tiny wooden box he found at the mall and sticks a number **18** on the top, and makes a CD of all the ridiculous, stupid videos he can find on youtube of people falling over, and writes, _I'VE FALLEN FOR YOU (1-17)_ on the CD in black marker pen. All the files on the CD are numbered, and the last file, 17, is a word doc that just says, **MARRY ME, BRENDON** in capital Times New Roman, size 72 font. He copied and pasted the smiley face at the end, and then underneath he's typed _(you can open box number 18 now)_. 

Brendon responds by knocking Spencer off the bed and making out with him for an hour, before declaring that night the night of twelve orgasms. (They make it to eleven between the two of them, but Brendon wakes up and jerks off before Spencer opens his eyes, so he counts that as the twelfth). 

They can't get married until Spencer's eighteenth birthday, so they sell the stereo and Spencer's bike and book flights to Massachussets for the beginning of September. They have to file their licence and then wait three days, so by the time they get married, both of their parents are leaving increasingly angry voicemails on their phones because they've gone out of town and won't tell them where they've gone, and Spencer has dropped out of college before he's even started. 

Spencer's parents are furious, and Brendon's parents are furious, and when Spencer and Brendon come back to Vegas and declare themselves _married_ , they're even more angry. Nobody is talking to Brendon and Spencer, including Ryan, who thinks Spencer is an idiot, and most of the rest of their friends think them stupid too, so that first year together is really tough. They're lonely and broke and working three jobs and not at college and the only good thing is each other. How they feel about each other hasn't changed at all, but everything is _so hard_. Brendon had expected Spencer's parents to make up with him, and Ryan to get over himself, but they don't, and Ryan doesn't, and Spencer tries to hide how hurt and alone he is, but he can't. It's too hard. 

Brendon feels increasingly more guilty. Spencer is tired all of the time, and while Brendon is used to not having friends, Spencer really isn't, because Spencer has had Ryan his whole life. They're exhausted, and broke, and Brendon keeps looking forward to the future and seeing them doing this same thing in ten years time, broke and cut off from their families and stuck in a shitty apartment. He feels terrible. Spencer had _so much_ potential. He'd got in to a good college. He was going to have a career and a future and a family that loved him, and Brendon had taken that away from him. Brendon had stopped him from having that, and the guilt eats away at Brendon like nothing else. He's taken away Spencer's future and left him with nothing. 

So, secretly, Brendon fills out a college application for Spencer. He completes it and sends it off and completes all the financial forms and all the time he tells himself that he's doing this for Spencer. 

The day the acceptance letter arrives, and all the financial papers, Brendon waits until Spencer leaves for work and then he stacks all the paperwork up on the table for Spencer to see, packs a bag and leaves a note that says, _This isn't working. Your parents and mine were right. We did this too young._

He doesn't write _I love you more than anything, and this is breaking my heart._

And then he leaves. 

~*~

He doesn't see Spencer for five years. 

~*~

Brendon Urie is a two-bit actor on a series of increasingly crappy action movies where his continued role is mostly to be the dorky, awkward kid in the corner who occasionally sings and dances as a little light relief, for no other reason than the producer used to be on Broadway. The number of times Brendon' s character has had to go "undercover" in a role that requires him to sing and dance is kind of ridiculous. It's a stupid franchise and a stupid role, but something about him endears him to the audience after the first movie, and now they're up to the third one and there are another two pencilled in for production, and Brendon's role has gotten bigger and bigger. People recognise him and invite him on talk shows and he has his own minder, now, a guy named Zack that Pete had found for him. Zack's a good guy, and Brendon likes him a lot. Zack keeps him company when Brendon's drinking himself into a stupor five nights out of seven, and Zack makes sure that he gets out of bed on time to get himself to the studio for another day of stupid, ridiculous action movie filming. Zack keeps him company and likes Brendon's dogs and doesn't let anyone near Brendon, which is kind of awesome since Brendon doesn't exactly like hanging out with the kind of people who try and get past Zack to talk to him. He mostly hangs with Zack, and Pete - who got him the role in the first place - and Pete's sort-of-ex-wife Ashlee, and this photographer dude, Shane, who is ostensibly using Brendon as a model for his art project. Shane mostly hangs out and gets stoned with Brendon and plays with Brendon's dogs. Brendon likes people who likes his dogs. 

And every month, Brendon diligently puts a third of his paycheck into his joint checking account, and even though he doesn't know for sure, he hopes that the money he's been putting in there for years helped Spencer through college. 

Brendon doesn't exactly keep it a secret that he's gay. Pete knows, and Pete knows that there's a big, painful relationship in Brendon's past, but Brendon hasn't officially outed himself to the press. He refuses to turn up to the occasional events he shows up to with a fake girl on his arm; he's usually alone on the red carpet, and inside he hangs with Shane and Zack, or Pete and Ashlee, if they're there, and then he makes an early exit and goes home so he can get drunk by himself. Brendon drinks too much, and he smokes too much weed, and he doesn't talk to his family and he's still married to someone he hasn't seen in five years and never stopped loving. He's lonely, and he spends too much time at home alone with his guitar, writing songs that need a drum part. 

The day he sees Spencer again, they're filming in San Diego, of all places, and when they finish up for the night, Pete takes Brendon out for a meal with some friends. The restaurant is nice, but busy, and Brendon's half way through his main course when he looks up and sees Spencer at a table across the room. He drops his water glass and it smashes on the floor, bringing the busy restaurant to a silent, staggering pause. When Spencer sees him, he goes white, and for a moment there's just the two of them staring at each other across the room. 

Then Spencer fumbles for his wallet, drops a handful of notes onto the table and walks right on out. 

Brendon stumbles to follow him, not even thinking, unable to help himself. When he gets out onto the sidewalk, Spencer is hailing a cab, and he's shaking. A cab pulls over. 

"Don't even come near me," Spencer says. "Seriously. Don't talk to me."

"Spencer-" Brendon tries to say, but his mouth is too dry and his tongue feels like its stuck to the roof of his mouth. 

And then Spencer's climbing into the cab and it's driving away, and Brendon's left standing on the sidewalk in downtown San Diego, and he wants to _cry_.

~*~

Pete takes him back to the hotel. "Dude," he says. "You want to tell me what the fuck went on tonight?"

Zack gets him a bottle of water and disentangles himself from Brendon's dogs, who get to come to hotels with him because apparently Brendon is a movie star, and movie stars get what they want. Brendon doesn't get it, but he loves his two dogs, so he's not going to complain. 

"That was Spencer," Brendon says, dully. 

"Right," Pete says. "And Spencer is...?"

"My husband," Brendon says, and Pete snorts water all over the carpet. 

"Jesus, _fuck_ ," Pete says. "Tell me you're kidding."

"No," Brendon says, and doesn't look up. "If you're going to be an asshole about this can we get it over quickly? I've never told a single person who has ever been happy with me after I told them, so if we could just get the fighting over and done with then maybe I can just go to bed."

"How long have you been married?" Zack asks. 

"Since we were eighteen," Brendon says, and doesn't think about how long they've been apart. Spencer looked good tonight, smartly dressed and _hot_. He had a beard, and his hair was a little darker and, oh fuck, Brendon still loved him just as much as he always had. "But it's okay, we've been separated for years."

"Fuck," Pete says. "Fuck, dude, I'm not going to ream you for being married to a guy. Don't you know me at all? Just. You're kind of famous, B. You don't think that the press is going to have a field day with your Spencer when they realize that you're fucking _married_ to him?"

Brendon looks up. "Fuck," he says. "I never thought of that."

"If you're not together," Pete says, apologetically. "Maybe you should think about getting a divorce. For his sake."

"Okay," Brendon says, softly, after a moment. "I'd kind of like to go to bed now."

He doesn't sleep. 

~*~

Pete has someone find Spencer's address for Brendon, but it's another week before Brendon has the papers drawn up. It's the worst week he can remember, because all he can think about is Spencer, and what they had together and how he felt about him. That look in Spencer's eyes when he'd looked at Brendon. The _hurt_.

He drinks a couple of shots of vodka before having Zack drive him over to Spencer's place. It doesn't even take the edge off his nerves, and his hands shake as he fumbles with the legal envelope in his lap as the car pulls up. 

"You ready?" Zack asks. 

"No," Brendon says. "But yes."

"Okay," Zack says. "You need me to come up with you?" It's an apartment block, and Spencer apparently lives on the sixth floor. It's a nice building. 

"No," Brendon says."I can do this by myself."

"Yeah," Zack says. "No. I'll come up. I can stand in the hallway."

Brendon nods, and when they've parked the car and pressed the buzzer, they're let straight in to the building without Brendon having to explain who he is. 

"Your friend should be more careful with his security," Zack says. 

"Uh-huh," Brendon says, and presses the button in the lift. 

~*~

It turns out that a movie star walking in to your apartment - even a not very famous one, like Brendon - is enough to bring an entire dinner party to a crashing, shuddering halt.

"Holy fuck," a girl with dark hair and a gorgeous purple dress says, under her breath. 

Brendon wants to die, because he had totally forgotten what day it was. The _happy birthday_ banners on the wall are giving him a good indication even if the date had managed to pass him by. It was Spencer's birthday, and Brendon was crashing his birthday meal, with divorce papers. 

"I'll, uh," Brendon says. "I'll come back. Some other time."

"Don't," Spencer says, fiercely. "Don't fucking come back."

"Spencer," someone else hisses. "That's Brendon Urie. From those movies."

"Yeah," Spencer says. "I know."

"I forgot," Brendon says. "I forgot it was your birthday. I'm sorry -"

"Well, maybe you can come back when you've remembered my present," Spencer says. He's gripping his cutlery too tight and his knuckles are white. Brendon wants to die. "Unless you've brought me a present." He waves a fork at the envelope in Brendon's hand. "Did you come back into my life to bring me a present?"

"Fuck," Brendon says. "Look, I'm just going to go, okay? I didn't mean to ruin your evening."

"You never mean to ruin my evening," Spencer says, "but you always do. Please tell me you've brought me divorce papers on my birthday. Shit, two days later and you could have given them to me on our anniversary. Did you do this on purpose?"

"Oh my -," the tall guy on Spencer's right says. The room is terribly, horribly silent. 

"I'm doing this for you, okay," Brendon says. "I just. I don't know. I don't want the press to fuck you over, or whatever. They'd screw you over if they knew you were married to me once."

"I'm still married to you," Spencer says. "Just because you walked out on me doesn't actually stop us from being actually fucking married."

"I was doing it for you," Brendon says, desperately. He wants to cry. He really, really wants to cry. "I'm just going to leave them here, and you can read them, or whatever. I don't want you to get any shit over this, it's not your fault -"

Spencer pushes his chair back. "Give them to me. I'll sign them now."

"No," Brendon says, sharply, holding the envelope close to his chest. "You've got to read them first. Don't fucking sign something you haven't read."

"Fuck," Spencer says. "I don't want to fucking read them. I'll sign them, and then you can get back to Hollywood, or wherever the fuck you're living, and you can get back to forgetting you were ever married to me, and I can get back to forgetting you exist."

"Ryan," Brendon pleads, spotting Ryan at the table. He hasn't seen Ryan in years, not since just after he and Spencer got married and Ryan came over to get mad at them both. It figures that they're friends again now. That's why Brendon left Spencer in the first place, after all, so Spencer could get everything back that he'd lost. "Don't let him sign it without reading them first."

Ryan rolls his eyes. "Are you screwing him over?"

"No," Brendon says. "Just. Don't sign legal stuff without reading it first. Please." He doesn't know why he's pleading. He doesn't want Spencer to be able to end their marriage this easily, maybe. He doesn't want any of this to be actually happening. 

"Fine," Spencer says, finally. "Give me the papers, I promise I won't fucking sign them until the day of our anniversary, and I will fucking read them and we can count this a total win for you, okay? Now get the fuck out and let me enjoy my birthday in peace."

"I'm _sorry_ ," Brendon says, brokenly, but the tall guy is standing up and nudging Brendon towards the door. 

"I think you've outstayed your welcome," he says, and he plucks the envelope from Brendon's hand. "Time to go."

Brendon nods, eyes down, and he waits until the door's closed behind him before he lets out a ragged, desperate breath. 

~*~

Spencer turns up on Brendon's doorstep three days later, wild-eyed and furious, waving the papers. The first Brendon hears about it is when he hears Zack yelling, and Brendon blearily removes his face from the pillow he's been drooling into and tries to sit up. His head hurts. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, trying to wake up. 

"What the fucking shit is this?" Spencer rages, storming into his living room. 

"I don't know?" Brendon says, trying to wake up. He feels like crap. 

"You're giving me half of everything?" Spencer says, disbelievingly. "Why would you do that?"

"Because it seemed like the right thing to do?" Brendon says. Zack is standing in the doorway. Normally Zack would have taken Spencer down long before this, but maybe there are special rules for soon to be ex-husbands. "Take it, Spence. It's yours."

"It is _not mine_ ," Spencer says. "It is yours and I don't want it. Take it back."

"No," Brendon says. "Take the fucking money. I don't want it. If you don't want it, I'm just going to give it away."

"I can't be _bought_ , Brendon," Spencer says. "Don't even try."

"Are you kidding me?" Brendon says. "If I was trying to buy you, I'd give you everything. I'd give you everything, and then some more, and it still wouldn't be enough. This is nothing. Take it."

"It's not _nothing_ ," Spencer says, sharply. "What sort of world are you living in when that kind of money is nothing? And what the fuck is this about a joint checking account?"

Brendon lets out a breath. "The account with your college fund in, you dumbass. What else do you call it?" 

"What college fund?" Spencer says, carefully. "And do we have to have this conversation with your fucking minder watching over us?"

"He's not my minder, he's my friend," Brendon says. 

"If you're paying him, then he's not your friend," Spencer says. "Stop pretending."

"Well, then," Brendon says, lightly. "If they don't count as friends then I haven't got any." 

"Bden -" Zack says, folding his arms. "Don't listen to him."

"Okay," Brendon says, taking a breath. "But, uh -"

Zack nods. "I'll wait in the hall, little guy."

"Thanks," Brendon says. 

Spencer's watching him with wide eyes. "What fucking joint checking account," he says, once Zack's out in the hallway. Like Zack can't hear every word from out there. Whatever, Brendon trusts Zack with his life. He has a list of five people in the world who he trusts, and Zack's up there at number one. "These papers keep talking about this checking account and these figures, and I don't know what it's talking about."

"The one with the money for college in it," Brendon repeats. "The one the bills used to come out of. The one I've been putting money in for _years_."

"I don't even know what you're talking about," Spencer says. "That account was closed years ago, right?"

Brendon shakes his head. "No," he says. "There's money in there and it's yours. It was supposed to help you through college."

"I worked through college," Spencer says. "And you fucking left me, what the fuck were you doing putting money in there to help me through college, what the _fuck_."

"I wanted you to have a future," Brendon says. He wouldn't be saying any of this if he hadn't just spent the last three days getting drunk and playing video games and not moving from his couch. Passing out on his couch isn't doing wonders for his back. "With me you didn't have a future at all, and I wanted you to have one," he says. He thinks he's still drunk. 

"That's fucking garbage," Spencer says. "Oh my god. I'm going. And you need to take a shower."

Brendon rubs his face with his hands. "Take the money," he says. "Take it, and have a fucking future."

"Fuck you," Spencer says, and leaves. 

~*~

"What I don't get," Spencer says, the following week, "is why you're living in this shit hole of an apartment when you have this kind of money in your bank account."

"What are you doing here?" Brendon asks, from the couch. His wrist is in a splint because he wasn't fucking concentrating at work and he took a fall from a fake bar. He's high on Vicodin but the pain is still there, throbbing and intrusive. He's screwing everything up at the moment. 

"This apartment is crappy, Brendon."

"You think this stupid franchise is going to be around forever?" Brendon says, because he was kind of homeless when he left Spencer, and he lived hand to mouth for months, working shitty jobs and sleeping in crappy places he would find on Craigslist, until Pete found him. "Anyway, what am I going to spend it on? I'm totally fucking boring, Spence."

"You hurt yourself," Spencer says, stupidly, pointing at Brendon's wrist.

"I fell," Brendon says. "I was an idiot." 

"He was exhausted," Zack says, grimly. He hands Brendon a glass of water and a pain pill. "And hungover."

"All of those Hollywood parties," Spencer says. 

"Sure," Brendon lies, swallowing down the pill. "Take the money, Spence."

"I don't want your money, Brendon," Spencer says. "You don't have to provide for me. You never did. We were _kids_."

"Well, I don't want it either," Brendon says. "Zack, do you want it? Otherwise I'm just going to walk out into the street and give it to the first person I see."

"Stop being such a fucking _idiot_ ," Spencer yells. "Take this seriously."

"I _am_ taking this seriously," Brendon yells back. "I ruined everything for you, and I am trying to fix it, and I've been trying to fix this ever since I applied for stupid fucking college for you, so will you just _take it_ , and have the life you were _supposed to_?"

" _You_ were supposed to be my fucking life," Spencer yells. "And you left me, and ruined everything, and I don't want your money reminding me of how you didn't love me enough, okay. Just divorce me and be done with it."

"Fuck," Brendon says. "You think I left you because I didn't love you enough? I left you because I loved you more than anything in the whole fucking world, you idiot." He shuts his mouth. He's said too much. "Just sign the papers, Spence."

"I don't understand you at all," Spencer says, after a moment. 

Brendon lets out a breath. "Tell me about it," he says. 

~*~

The third time Spencer shows up at his apartment, Zack has the night off and Brendon is drunk on his couch playing video games. 

"You're always drunk," Spencer says. 

"Yeah," Brendon says. "Are you here to yell at me?"

"I don't know," Spencer says, after a moment. He sits down on the edge of the couch, and watches as Brendon loses a life. "I think I'm here to ask you why you left me."

Brendon drops the controller. "We were too young. And I didn't love you."

Spencer raises an eyebrow. "Well, that hurt. You want to punch me in the face next? That might hurt less."

Brendon rubs at his forehead, and reaches for his drink. He drinks a lot, and he knows that, but these last couple of weeks have been way above the norm. He feels like he's constantly either drunk or hungover. He can't remember the last time he slept in his bed. "Sorry," he says. 

"Also not what you said last week. I figured we could maybe talk about that instead."

"I said _take the money_ last week. Have you signed the papers yet?"

"You said that you loved me more than anything else in the world," Spencer says. "Were you lying?"

Brendon takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes. "No," he says, finally. "No, I wasn't lying."

"Okay," Spencer says. "You maybe want to tell me why you left me and broke my heart?"

"Broke my heart too," Brendon says, more drunk than he's letting on. 

Spencer rolls his shoulders. "I need a drink," he says. "Can I get a drink?"

"In the fridge," Brendon says, but doesn't move. "Help yourself."

When Spencer comes back, he has the bottle of tequila and two glasses. "You want?" he asks. 

"Sure," Brendon says, and he watches as Spencer splashes a shot into both glasses, handing one over before knocking his own back in one and pouring himself another one. 

"So," Spencer says, rolling around his tequila in the bottom of his glass. "You broke both of our hearts. Any reason for that, or did you just think that life wasn't hard enough for us, so you had to make it tougher?"

"Your parents," Brendon says, miserably. "My parents. Ryan. I see Ryan came back when I'd gone."

"Ryan came back before he even knew you'd walked out on me," Spencer says. "Ryan was a jackass who bought us cereal bowls as a belated wedding present. You weren't even there, because you'd fucking _left_."

"You were washing dishes," Brendon says. "And stacking shelves. You think that was the future you were supposed to have?"

"It was worth it," Spencer says, solidly. "I mean, obviously it wasn't, because you turned out to be a gutless dicksmack who ran out on me, and you really were the loser husband everyone said you were going to be, but it felt worth it. At the time. I was kind of head over heels in love with you."

"I left so you'd go to college, Spence," Brendon says, after a minute of staring at the paused computer game on the big screen. "And now you've got a college degree and an education and you can have the life you were always meant to have. I bet your mom and dad are really proud of you."

"Not your fucking choice to make," Spencer says, after a while. "Brendon, that wasn't your choice to make. You didn't get to make that choice for me. That was _my choice_."

"I was holding you back," Brendon says, miserably. 

"What about _your_ college degree, B," Spencer says. "What about you?"

Brendon shrugs. "Turns out I didn't need one," he says. "Got here without one."

"I didn't need one either," Spencer says. "Or maybe I could have gone to community college. We both could have done. We could have done it together."

"I did the right thing," Brendon says, because otherwise he's going to cry. He's so fucking drunk. He did the right thing and he did it for the right reasons, and he has to have done because otherwise all of this, _everything_ , it wasn't worth _anything_. He blinks, trying to make the threat of tears disappear along with the rest of the tequila in his glass. 

"You didn't," Spencer says, softly. "It was the wrong thing to do, B."

"Shut up," Brendon says. "I gave you a chance."

"You did," Spencer agrees, after a while. "But it wasn't worth it. I would have preferred having you."

Brendon wipes his sleeve across his eyes. "Shut up," he says, because he's holding on to this by a thread. The only way he's put up with being so miserable for so long is because he'd told himself that out of the two of them, Spencer was getting a real chance at life. And Brendon had a career he was good at. Money in the bank. An apartment. 

"I would have preferred having you," Spencer says again. "Tell me you wouldn't have preferred having me."

"I wouldn't," Brendon lies, but he hiccups, because he's starting to cry. "Oh, fuck, Spencer. I'm sorry."

"That doesn't fix anything," Spencer says, gruffly, but his eyes are wet too. 

"I'd have preferred having you," Brendon says, after a minute. He pours himself another tequila. "If I had my chance over again, I wouldn't ever give you up."

"Too bad it's too late now," Spencer says. 

~*~

Spencer shows up the following weekend with steaks and a carton of orange juice. 

"What the fuck," Brendon says, opening the door. 

"You have nothing in your fridge but beer," Spencer says. "I had extra steak."

"And orange juice," Brendon says. 

"Figured it might dilute the blood in your alcohol stream," Spencer says. "Can I come in, or do you want me to leave it here?"

"Come in," Brendon says, stepping back. "I'm not drunk."

"First time for everything," Spencer says. 

Brendon feels a little bit like he's been punched in the stomach. "What are you doing here?"

Spencer shrugs. "I brought the papers. I'm not signing them, so I figured we should try and talk them over before we have to get lawyers involved to redraft them."

"There are already lawyers involved," Brendon points out. He wants to point out that he hasn't drunk at all since Thursday, but it's only Saturday so it's maybe not that big a deal to anyone who isn't Brendon.

" _More_ involved," Spencer says, with a shrug. "You want to eat before or after we talk divorce?"

"Uh," Brendon says. "Either?"

"We'll eat first," Spencer says. "See if there's anything on the TV to watch while we cook?"

"Okay," Brendon says. 

"They don't talk about the divorce that night. 

~*~

They walk Brendon's dogs in the dog park near Brendon's apartment. Brendon wears dark glasses and sometimes Zack comes too, but nobody really bothers him. 

"I'm not drinking as much," Brendon says, one morning when they've thrown a soggy tennis ball for Bogart and Penny for way too long. The dogs are chasing each other around and around in circles, and Brendon and Spencer are sitting by the edge of the park, just watching. 

"That's good," Spencer says, "because I was pretty sure you were a drunk when I met you."

"Met me _again_ ," Brendon corrects. He can't forget the first time, even though Spencer wants to. 

"Right," Spencer says. "You were always fucking drunk, Brendon."

"I was miserable," Brendon says. "And bored."

Spencer nods. "You need better coping strategies," he says. "Stop fucking leaving and stop fucking hiding."

"I'm doing my best," Brendon says. 

Spencer shoots him a look. "Yeah," he says. "I know."

~*~

"How's that divorce coming along?" Pete asks, over the phone. 

Brendon chews on his lip. "I'll talk to him," he says. 

"What's the hold up?" Pete asks. 

"I don't know," Brendon says. "We're just—we're hanging out. We haven't talked about the divorce in a while."

There's a long pause. "You know—you don't have to get divorced, you know."

"I know," Brendon says, after a beat. "But that's kind of—it's not up to me, you know?"

"Okay," Pete says, softly. "Keep me posted, okay?"

~*~

"Pete asked me about the divorce," Brendon says, once Spencer's let him in to his apartment. "I told him, well. I told him we hadn't talked about it in a while."

Spencer looks uncomfortable. There's a strange, taut tenseness in the hallway of Spencer's apartment, and Brendon doesn't know how to break it. 

"Can we—" Spencer trails off. "Can we go on not talking about it for a while longer?"

Brendon doesn't understand that, but he nods anyway. "Yeah," he says. "That sounds like a plan."

"Okay," Spencer says. "Do you want to stay and hang out?"

"I guess," Brendon says. "I don't have to be on set for a while."

"Okay," Spencer says, again.

~*~

When it happens, it catches Brendon unawares. It's late at night and he's worked nights all week, and they've only just wrapped. He's yawning and climbing out of his car, Zack grabbing his bags as they head inside. Spencer's waiting for them outside Brendon's door, and when Zack makes his excuses to go home, Spencer just stands there, in Brendon's hallway, not saying anything. 

"What are you doing here?" Brendon asks, tiredly. 

"I don't know," Spencer says. "I just. I can't be friends with you any longer."

Brendon's broken bones that have hurt less than this moment. "Okay," he says, against the painful beat of his heart beneath his skin. 

"I mean," Spencer says, "it hurts too much. I'm not getting anything out of this apart from getting hurt more."

"Okay," Brendon says. He feels breathless, like all the air is being squeezed out of his body, inch by painful inch. 

"It's like, you have no idea how bad you hurt me. I was a total fucking mess, Brendon. I couldn't function. I don't think I spoke to anyone at college until like, after Christmas. I was so mad at you. You broke me." He shrugs. "I'm pretty sure you can break me again, if you tried."

"I wouldn't try," Brendon says. "I couldn't—I couldn't."

"But you are," Spencer says. "Just by being here and like, hanging out with me and, I don't know. Showing up at my place with divorce papers."

"I don't want to divorce you," Brendon says, quickly. "I never wanted to divorce you. I never wanted to not be married to you."

"Divorce papers would say otherwise," Spencer points out. 

Brendon makes a face. "Pete said that the press would bug you if they found out you were married to me. I wanted to save you that."

Spencer lets out a breath. "What if—what if I didn't want to be saved that?" He looks at Brendon, eyes bright. "What if I was willing to put up with that?"

"With the press?" Brendon asks, carefully. "With them knowing we were married once?"

"With them knowing we're married," Spencer says, equally carefully. "That we're still married."

"That we're still married," Brendon repeats. There's a ringing in his ears. 

"That we are married," Spencer says. "That we're married. To each other."

"Oh, fuck," Brendon says. "Please tell me you're not joking. Please tell me this means what I really, really want this to mean."

"I love you," Spencer says. "I always fucking loved you. Please don't ever leave me again."

"I couldn't," Brendon manages. "I couldn't leave you even if I wanted to. I don't work without you."

"Take me back," Spencer says. "Please."

"Take _me_ back," Brendon says. "I screwed up. Not _you_. I just—I loved you so much. I love you. I just want to be with you. For, like. Forever."

"Okay," Spencer says, breathlessly, and Brendon isn't sure which one of them moves first, but one second they're apart and the next they're wrapping their arms around each other in Brendon's hallway and kissing. Brendon feels like he's on fire, like heat is spreading through him, fast and hot and he's breathless against Spencer's mouth, kissing him over and over. "Stay with me, Brendon," Spencer says, in between kisses. 

"Always," Brendon says, and kisses him again. 

[end. for now. apart from the coming out scenes and the getting the band together scenes and the extra special super-duper happy ending scenes. but! end for NOW]

[this is such self-indulgent melodrama, omg]


End file.
